


Don't Stop

by DizzyRedhead



Series: Five Times Morgan and Reid Kept it Casual and One Time They Didn't [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Endearments, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 06:15:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6893446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyRedhead/pseuds/DizzyRedhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Spencer tries to wake Derek from a nightmare, he gets a little more than he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have at least 6 WIPs I should be working on, but my brain would not let this porny little ficlet go, so I wrote it down to try and get it out of the way. Almost certainly brought on by watching too much Criminal Minds; I ship Morgan and Garcia like DAMN, but the Morgan/Reid subtext is so unsubtle it's practically text. I mean, this fic basically wrote itself, which I guess is one of the joys of multishipping.
> 
> There will be another chapter that is the morning after, because my brain has that one already half-written without much input from me. Don't expect a lot of plot there, either. I'm making it part of a series, because I can vaguely see how to turn it into a 5+1 series without too much trouble, so feel free to subscribe, but I can't promise any kind of reasonable update schedule because of who I am as a person

Spencer wasn’t quite asleep when Derek started shifting in the other queen-size bed, tiny movements that rustled the smooth sheets in the darkness of their shared hotel room. At first he thought the other man was just trying to get comfortable, but the rustling continued, Derek’s movements becoming faster and more frantic, and then Derek started muttering under his breath, the way he only did during a nightmare.

Spencer slipped out of his bed and across the narrow space between the two. “Morgan?” he said softly. “Morgan, wake up. You’re dreaming.”

Derek just muttered louder, tossing his head from side to side on the pillow, so Spencer reached a tentative hand out to the other man’s shoulder. He meant to shake Derek awake, but as soon as his fingers brushed Derek’s skin, his wrist was caught in a vice-like grip and the room spun around him. When it stopped spinning, he was flat on his back on the bed, his arms pinned down in Derek’s implacable grip, and Derek’s body pressing his into the mattress.

“Morgan?” he asked, not moving.

For a frozen minute, nothing happened, and then Derek shook his head a little, his eyes clearing. “Reid?”

Spencer let out a breath, the tension draining out of his muscles (not that he was ever going to be able to get out of Derek's hold, no matter how many jiu jitsu or krav maga classes he took). “You were dreaming,” he said quietly, meeting Derek’s eyes. “It seemed like a bad one.”

Derek huffed out a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “You could say that. Did I wake you, pretty boy?”

It was nothing that Derek hadn’t called him a million times, but his tone was low and intimate, and Spencer was suddenly aware that they were both naked except for boxer briefs, having long since grown comfortable enough in each other’s space to dispense with the formality of pajamas when they shared a room. “Don’t call me that,” he said softly, dropping his eyes from Derek’s  face, but that only meant they landed on the muscular expanse of his bare chest.

“But you are,” Derek answered, his voice equally soft. He released one of Spencer’s wrists and brought that hand to his face, his thumb tracing along Spencer’s bottom lip as his mouth fell open a little in surprise.

“I...I am what?” Spencer stammered, the touch of Derek’s hand and the slow drag of his thumb derailing the normally orderly processes of his brain.

“Pretty boy,” Derek said, still in that rich, caressing tone that had heat curling in Spencer’s gut. “So goddamn gorgeous.”

Spencer licked his lips unconsciously, and they both sucked in a breath when his tongue flicked over Derek’s thumb.

“Do you want me to stop, Spencer?” Derek asked, leaning closer. “All you have to do is say the word, and this never happened.”

Spencer took a deep breath, feeling the tension winding tighter. “Don’t stop.”

He had a split second to appreciate the bright flash of Derek’s smile in the darkness of the room and then Derek was kissing him, a slow, lazy seduction. Other men might have pushed, forced, devoured, but Derek Morgan coaxed him, pressing their mouths together with  long, sumptuous kisses until Spencer’s lips parted and Derek deepened the kiss, stroking his tongue against Spencer’s, slowly, like he was savoring the taste, before they had to separate, gasping for air.

“Still good, pretty boy?” he murmured, nosing along Spencer’s jaw and chuckling in the back of his throat as Spencer tipped his head back on the pillow to give him better access.

“I have a name, you know,” Spencer said. He was trying to sound at least a little irritated, but it was hard when Derek was placing a line of nipping, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, the slight scrape of stubble a delicious contrast to the softness of Derek’s lips.

“Oh, I know,” Derek said, the words vibrating over Spencer’s skin. He licked his way across Spencer’s collarbone. “You want me to say your name, Spencer? Or you want me to stop calling you ‘pretty boy’?”

Spencer opened his mouth to answer, but it was lost in the noise he made when Derek scraped his teeth lightly over the side of his neck. His hips arched up involuntarily and he hissed out a breath as his erection pressed against the hard line of Derek’s hip. Derek shifted above him and then his cock was right there, rubbing against Spencer’s, only two thin layers of cloth separating them. Spencer couldn’t even be embarrassed at the whimpering noise he made, because his eyes had rolled back in his head with how incredibly good it felt.

“That’s it, pretty boy,” Derek crooned, rolling his hips against Spencer’s and sending electricity sparking over his skin. “Say my name. Let me hear you.”

“Derek,” Spencer moaned, lifting his hands to the other man’s back, fingers digging into the flexing muscle to hold him in place as he arched his hips up again, chasing more of that sensation. “Fuck, Derek--” and then Derek was kissing him again, licking his moans out of his mouth.

“Gonna make you feel so good, Spencer,” Derek rasped when he lifted his head, pushing himself up on one hand and reaching down between them, shoving their boxers down until there was nothing but skin on skin.

Spencer cried out when he felt Derek’s cock against his own, hard and hot. “God, Derek, please--” he begged, not quite sure what he was asking for, what he wanted, except  _ more _ . He couldn’t keep still, not when every restless little shift had his cock sliding against Derek’s, sending white-hot sensation shooting up his spine.

And then Derek licked his palm, his mouth curved in a filthy smirk, and wrapped his hand around both of them, gun callouses rasping against the sensitive skin. Spencer moaned again, rocking his hips up and savoring the drag of skin on skin, slick with precome and sweat.

“There you go,” Derek purred, grinding down against him. “Wanna hear you, let me know how good I’m making you feel.”

They found a rhythm, moving together, and a part of Spencer mourned the loss of the earlier lazy exploration, but most of him was focused in the here and now--the way Derek rubbed his thumb just under the head of Spencer’s cock on every upstroke, the weight of his body, still pressing Spencer’s into the mattress, the soft, slick sounds of their erections sliding through his fist, the smell of sex hanging heavy in the quiet room, the taste of Derek’s mouth still lingering on his tongue.

“You like that, pretty boy?” Derek gasped as his hips moved harder and faster. “That feel good?”

“Yes,” Spencer breathed, matching him thrust for thrust as they raced toward the finish. “Derek--fuck--almost--”

Derek groaned, closing his eyes. “Fuck, yeah. Say my name again, Spencer.”

Spencer swallowed. “Derek,” he said, “don’t stop,” and Derek shuddered above him as he came, his hips thrusting in a staccato rhythm, semen slicking his hand and Spencer’s cock. It only took three more desperate strokes into Derek’s tightened grip before Spencer was coming too, throwing his head back on the pillow and groaning Derek’s name again.

He forced his eyes open when he felt Derek’s weight shift off of him, suppressing a shiver at the rush of cooled air over suddenly-exposed skin. Derek flopped down onto the other pillow, wiping his hand on the sheets, and even with only approximately 23% of his brainpower back online, Spencer felt suddenly very awkward.

“So,” he finally ventured, after several long minutes of increasingly fraught silence. “I guess we should talk about this?”

Derek sat up and looked down at him. Spencer suppressed the urge to cover himself; it was ridiculous to be shy when mere minutes ago this man had had his hands and mouth all over Spencer’s body.

“In the morning, pretty boy,” Derek finally said, standing and offering Spencer a hand up. “But we’re sleeping in the bed without the giant wet spot.”

“That’s not my fault,” Spencer argued, following Derek to the other bed. “I’m not the one who wiped my semen-covered hand all over the sheets when there was a perfectly good bathroom available.”

Derek rolled his eyes and plumped up his pillow, turning on his side with his back toward Spencer. “And I’m not the one who came over to my bed in the middle of the night. Let’s not forget who started this.”

“You were having a nightmare!” Spencer protested.

“I know,” Derek said, looking back over his shoulder, a tiny smile curling up the corners of his mouth. “And what we did was a hell of a lot better than what I was dreaming about. Now go to sleep, pretty boy. It’s late.”

Spencer sighed and sank back onto his own pillow, pulling the blankets up to cover himself. His annoyance had no chance against the pleasant heaviness in his muscles, and he drifted off to sleep before he’d even realized it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after doesn't start with the talk Derek expected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments! I'm glad other people are enjoying this porny little diversion.

Derek floated gently to awareness, unlike his usual snap from sleep to awake in the morning. He was warm and comfortable and for once nothing hurt, no cuts or bruises or strains making themselves felt, so he let himself drift slowly toward the waking world.

He was warm, he realized, because there was a slim, strong body plastered against his back, a long arm draped over his waist, warm breath against the back of his neck. The memory of the previous night seeped slowly back into his awareness, lips and teeth and tongues, skin on skin. Spencer underneath him, that wide, mobile mouth falling open as those delicious, soft, helpless noises escaped, the drag of their cocks through his fist as they moved against each other, and the sound of his name on Spencer’s lips as he came.

Spencer shifted behind him and Derek realized that the hard ridge pressing against his ass and the small of his back wasn’t just the other man’s hipbone, and that his own cock was just as hard as Spencer’s, dragging slightly against the sheets as he moved.

“That your gun, pretty boy, or you just happy to see me?” he drawled, pressing back against Spencer.

He huffed out a tiny laugh, his breath ghosting over Derek’s neck. “Really?” he asked.

Derek shrugged. “My brain’s only about half online right now. Bad lines are all I got.”

“That’s not quite all you’ve got,” Spencer disagreed, his hand trailing down Derek’s stomach until his fingers brushed the hard length of his cock. “What about this?”

“Oh, yeah,” Derek said, his hips bucking up into the teasing, feather-light touches. “That. What do you think I should do about that?”

“I think,” Spencer said softly, his lips almost touching Derek’s ear, “that you got to get your hands on my cock, but I never got to touch yours. That doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

Derek opened his mouth to reply, but it came out as more of a strangled grunt as Spencer finally wrapped his long, clever fingers around Derek’s erection and started to stroke. Derek would’ve expected him to be hesitant or tentative, but his hand moved smoothly, firmly, thumb gathering the precome at the head and slicking it down over the shaft. 

“Jesus Christ, kid,” he breathed, unable to stop himself from thrusting into the smooth, tight circle of Spencer’s fist. “How’d you get so good at that?”

Spencer shook his head, the ends of his hair brushing against Derek’s head and shoulders. “I do have one of these myself, you know.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Derek said darkly, rolling his hips back, and they both sucked in a breath as Spencer’s cock slipped between Derek’s cheeks, the head catching just for a moment on the rim of his ass before sliding further down. 

Spencer pressed closer, grinding against Derek’s ass in the same slow, steady rhythm that he used to stroke his cock. “You have a pretty good idea how active my sex life is, so it shouldn’t be surprising that I’ve gotten very,” he nipped at Derek’s earlobe “very,” a sucking kiss to the side of his neck “...experienced at masturbation.”

Derek tipped his head back just to feel the soft, silky strands of Spencer’s hair against his skin again. “Well, you’re sure as hell putting it to good use. Shame I can’t do much for you in this position.”

“This is just--ah--fine,” Spencer murmured, rubbing up against Derek’s ass again, the slide of his cock against the sensitive skin enough to have Derek squirming, torn between the desires to fuck his cock in Spencer’s hand and grind his hips back against his cock. “I can get off like this. Not quite as tight as fucking you, but not as much prep work, either.”

Derek bit his lip, his eyes sliding closed. “You wanna fuck me, pretty boy?”

Spencer’s laugh was a little bitter this time, a jarring note in the slow, sweet climb toward orgasm. “Yeah, like that’ll ever happen.”

“Hey,” Derek said, opening his eyes and reaching blindly back over his shoulder until his hand was cupping the back of Spencer’s head. “Not gonna lie, it’s not how things usually go, but I could be down for that.”

“Really,” Spencer drawled, skepticism ringing through his tone, his hand stilling on Derek’s cock. “Big, bad, SSA Derek Morgan. The consummate ladies’ man. The alpha male. You’d let me fuck you.”

“Assuming you were any good at it,” Derek taunted, because he knew Spencer well enough to know that softness would only read as pity right now. “You’ve got the hand job down, but I don’t know about fucking. Think you could make me like it, pretty boy?”

Spencer laughed again, but the bitterness was gone, his voice deepening. “I think, with enough time, I could make you beg for it.”

“Oh, yeah?” Derek made the words a challenge, even though he was pretty close to begging right now, just to get Spencer to move his hand. “Convince me.”

Spencer froze behind him, and for a long moment Derek was afraid that he’d miscalculated, but then the other man let out a long breath, curving his body more closely around Derek’s.

“I’d start slow,” Spencer said, suiting actions to words and stroking Derek’s cock again, slow, leisurely motions like Derek wasn’t hard and aching already. “Slick up my fingers and open you up, one finger at a time. I’ve got long fingers, you know--”

“I know,” Derek gritted out as one of those long fingers brushed up under the head of his cock, glancing against the sensitive spot that always made him see stars. Between that and the mental image of those fingers inside him, stretching him, fucking him, he felt light-headed and he tangled his fingers in Spencer’s hair to keep himself tethered.

“--so it probably wouldn’t take me long to find your prostate. Have you ever had your prostate stimulated, Derek?” Spencer asked. 

It should’ve sounded like a clinical question, like something Dr. Reid would say in his professional capacity, but in that low, intimate tone, it was almost a promise. ”Have you?” Derek shot back.

Spencer tsked in his ear, tracing the outer shell with his tongue for a minute before replying. “I told you, Derek,” he said, “I’ve gotten very experienced at masturbation. It’s hard to reach with my fingers, but I have a dildo and a vibrating plug that both do an excellent job.”

“Jesus fuck,” Derek swore, because that was a mental image he was never going to get over, Spencer Reid fucking himself with a dildo or a vibrating plug, stroking his cock with those elegant fingers until he came all over himself. 

“We’re getting distracted,” Spencer said, his voice a little stern, and Derek’s cock twitched in his hand. He waited for Spencer’s reaction, but he just made a little considering hum in his throat. “You’ll know when I find your prostate, Derek, because it’s going to feel so good you almost won’t be able to stand it. But I’m not going to fuck you yet. I’m going to keep adding fingers, keep stretching you open, and I’m going to make sure I hit your prostate every time I move, until you’re shaking and swearing and begging me to make you come.”

“Big talk, pretty boy” Derek managed, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t fooling either of them,  given the way he was arching back against Spencer’s cock and fucking into his fist, desperately chasing his orgasm. 

“I think I can back it up,” Spencer said, tightening his grip on until Derek groaned, the friction just the right side of painful. “And then, when you’re losing your mind, then I’ll fuck you, Derek. How do you want it? Do you want it slow and gentle?”

Derek had to force the words out through a throat gone dry and tight. “Hell, no. Have you met me?”

“Fast and hard, then,” Spencer breathed, moving his hand and his hips faster, somehow managing to keep Derek right on the edge. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember your own name, so you’re going to feel it for days, and all you’re going to want in the world is to come. But you won’t.”

“I--fuck, Spencer--I won’t?” Derek asked. He’d meant it to sound challenging, but it just came out like a plea. Like begging.

“No, you won’t,” Spencer said, his voice a little breathless, but firm. “Not until I tell you to.”

“Someone’s getting a little--God--a little cocky,” Derek said.

Spencer made that little considering hum in the back of his throat again. “Maybe. Then again, maybe not. Come for me, Derek,” he said, rubbing his thumb over the head of Derek’s cock, and Derek was coming, his whole body locking up as his orgasm exploded out of him. He was vaguely aware that Spencer was still rocking against him, his ass slick with the other man’s precome, and then Spencer was shaking behind him with the force of his own orgasm, a rush of wet warmth along his ass and sliding down his thighs.

They stayed pressed together for a few minutes as their breathing returned to normal, and then Spencer peeled himself away from Derek’s back with a disgusting squelch.

“I’m gonna shower,” he announced.

“Save me some hot water,” Derek said, flopping over onto his back and grimacing slightly. “Hey, Spencer?”

The other man paused with his hand on the bathroom door. “Yeah?”

“That wasn’t exactly the talk I said we’d have this morning.”

“I figured,” Spencer said, raking his hair back out of his face. “Shower first?”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed.

* * *

“Can you stop looking at me like that?” Spencer asked, taking a sip of the coffee from the in-room coffeemaker and making a face.

“Like what?” Derek asked, eyeing the coffee dubiously.

“Like I’m someone you fucked and now you’re trying to figure out how to let me down easy and make a quick exit,” Spencer said, his tone and his face both resigned.

Derek opened his mouth, and then closed it again. “I--”

Spencer took a deep breath and then slugged back the rest of the coffee like a shot, doing his best not to taste it. “We were both horny, we both got off. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that, Morgan.”

“I don’t--” Derek stopped and started again. “I can’t--”

Spencer quirked an eyebrow at him. “Cat got your tongue?”

Derek scrubbed his hands over his face. “Let me try this again. I’m not really in a place where I can do anything that’s not casual, Reid.”

“Did I ask you to?” Spencer asked, his voice genuinely curious.

Derek smiled a little. “No, I guess you didn’t. I just...you know I care about you, right, man?”

“I know,” Spencer said, smiling back. 

“So, we cool?” Derek asked.

“I wasn’t actually expecting you to propose or anything,” Spencer joked, glad that things seemed to be getting sort of back to normal between them.

Derek slung his arm around Spencer’s neck. “C’mon, pretty boy. Time to work for a living.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was a little different, since Spencer decided to get a little dommy on us. Hopefully you guys still enjoyed it!!!


End file.
